‘‘ Despertar’’

VOICE 1: Today I woke up, and as I look at the sun, I am struck by the pain of its sad fate. I feel that all its warmth is drowning it, as it dreams of standing in the humidity of the sea. Today I woke up, and as I look at the sea, I feel that its dream is a stone, and more than that, it wants to dry in the heat of the sun, turn into a cloud, and kiss the star. Life, the one my verse filled, filled with melancholy, brings trails of my dreams, the life of the soul, the gale-force life of nights and struggles. May God grant that I still have time to love. That sad poem, that one where I delegate my last hope to life. Today I woke up, and as I look at you, I feel that you lack a reason for being. You were no different from what I knew, and my poor soul was lost again. Today I woke up, and as I look at myself, I think that I will never emerge from this dream, that I am a sorrow that wanders around, changing its name for happiness. Life, which my verse filled, filled with melancholy, brings trails of my dreams, the life of the soul, the whirlwind life of nights and struggles. May God grant that I may still have time to love. A sad poem, that one where I delegate my last hope to life. To life. To life.

VOZ 1: Hoy he despertado y al mirar al sol,
me ataca la pena de su triste azar,
siento que lo ahoga todo su calor
que sueña pararse en la humedad del mar.

Hoy he despertado y al mirar al mar
siento que su sueño es una piedra y más
que quiere secarse en el calor del sol,
volverse una nube y al astro besar.

La vida, la que mi verso llenó,
llenó de melancolía,
trae senderos de mis sueños, la vida del alma,
la vida vendaval, de noches y porfías.
Quiera Dios que me quede para amar
todavía.
Triste poema aquel
donde delego mi última esperanza
a la vida.

Hoy he despertado y al mirarte a ti,
siento que te falta la razón de ser,
no eras diferente a lo que conocí
y mi pobre alma se volvió a perder.

Hoy he despertado y al mirarme a mí,
pienso que del sueño no saldré jamás,
que soy una pena que anda por ahí,
cambiando su nombre por felicidad.

La vida, la que mi verso llenó,
llenó de melancolía,
trae senderos de mis sueños, la vida del alma,
la vida vendaval, de noches y porfías.
Quiera Dios que me quede para amar
todavía.
Triste poema aquel
donde delego mi última esperanza
a la vida.

A la vida.
A la vida.